So yes, happy birthday to me.
It's funny... last night as we were going to bed, Jen asked me what I did for my 17th birthday (since my birthday is on the 17th). It just so happens that, for my 17th birthday, I attempted to have a birthday party. I handed out invitations to just about everyone I thought might come--25 or 30 people in all, something like that. My parents made a big pot of chili for dinner and then stayed out of the way.
3 people showed up. Cris, Tammy, and Jay. Story of my [high-school] life.
Naturally, that led into a discussion of other bad birthdays (such as the one where I finally realized that two people I had been really close to were completely out of touch with me and didn't seem to really care), bad gifts, etc. It struck me again that my birthdays are very seldom particularly worth remembering. Actually, the last two birthdays I had were probably the best since my childhood; I'm a low-key person, but I like going out with a group of friends on my birthday. St. Louis was pretty good that way.
Anyway, to shake off the maudlin thoughts, I've had several phone calls and an e-mail already today, I have a pot rack* coming in the mail, and I'll get to hang out with people and open presents over Thanksgiving. (It's interesting, sometimes, how much like my father I continue to become. Dad always got his presents at Thanksgiving because his birthday is the 29th...) And life in Austin is pretty good, so I'm looking forward to spending year 26 here.
* My birthday present from Jen. I will be so glad to get those pots and pans out of the cupboard.
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